Love's Choices
by bookworm2
Summary: Love isn't always instinctive, and at times, there are choices which have to be made. Sometimes, they are the wrong ones.


Love's Choices

Luciana Tomstone tapped her quill impatiently, trying to find some interest in McGonagall's lecture about human transfiguration. Boring. The Seventh Year tried not to yawn. Transfiguration wasn't much of a challenge. Others struggled in class, but Luciana simply went through the lessons, and exams with the ease of a born scholar. She excelled in nearly all of her classes. All but for charms. She did well, but Charles McBloff did better.

McBloff was a Hufflepuff, which drove the point deeper. It could have been worse, she supposed silently, contemplating the problem. He could have been in Gryffindor. Someone from the goody-two-shoed house. Speaking of which, the Head was attempting to teach them. Not many people were listening, nor cared. It was Friday, and the weekend - the first weekend of the new year - was coming up.

"Tomstone! Are you listening at all?" McGonagall snapped out suddenly, the girl's inattentive face catching her attention.

"Not too closely, Professor," she drawled, "however, I don't believe I am the one to worry about." She glanced pointedly over at the boy next to her - she had no idea what his name was, even after seven years - who was sleeping with saliva coming from his gaping mouth.

McGonagall slammed her hand on the offending student's desk, causing him to jerk up. Most of the class smirked at him in a smug way known to Slytherins, as McGonagall gave him hell for sleeping in her class.

"I don't care what your excuse is, Thomson, but you are showing up to detention tonight. No excuses, no weaseling out of anything, or it'll be twenty points from Slytherin," she shouted, still seething.

The boy Thomson flushed an ugly red, as he hunched behind his burly shoulders. Luciana watched without pity, as McGonagall berated him further. There would be no more lectures, as McGonagall was too riled to think about Transfiguration at that moment.

In the end, she only had time to shout out homework, before the class fled. Luciana took her time, placing the books carefully into her knapsack, and putting on her hat before leaving the classroom. There were one or two other people who were also not in a hurry to Potions class.

There was no real teacher but for a reedy old man, who slept through the class. The Gryffindors who shared the class spent their time fooling about, as did the Slytherins, both on their respective sides. Luciana took the time, and studied the art of Potions on her own, reading tomes from the library, absorbing as much as she could so the NEWTs wouldn't come to so much of a shock.

Their previous Potions teacher and Slytherin Head had left the school at the beginning of the year, for no apparent reason. They had yet to get a new one. As far as Luciana was concerned, there wasn't much fun in having a real teacher; she wouldn't have the chance to watch her fellow students fail the Potions portion of the final exam.

Luciana reached the door to the Potions classroom, pausing to step over a prone figure - she didn't bother checking if it was a Gryffindor or Slytherin. If they were stupid enough to end up on the floor, she wasn't about to dirty her hands and heave him up.

Luciana settled herself at the front of the classroom, and opened _Patented Potions,_ her current book. People tended to leave the front of the room and carry on in the back. They also tended to give her a wide berth when it came to conversations and personal space. They had learnt early on to leave her alone.

No one noticed him enter the room. His first class was Seventh Years, Gryffindor and Slytherin. His old House, and the House in which he was the Head.

Most of his class was fooling about. So much like the irresponsible fools they were. But up in the front, a girl sat calmly with a straight back and a no-nonsense aura about her. Slytherin, he could tell. She had straight black hair, which was lying on her back, tied with a piece of ribbon which blended finely with her hair. Her hands were spread on the worktable before her, on either side of her book. Her face was angular, and pale. There were no soft features about her, especially not her expression.

He stopped in front of her, and she did not look up. He could see now that this was a book on Potions. "You, girl, what is your name?" he asked. Here was a good place as any to start.

She looked up finally, hearing him over the clamor of the classroom. Her cool grey eyes surveyed him in before she answered. Her look was not insolent, though it probably would have been on any other face. It was a mix between arrogance and curiosity, and possibly a dash of annoyance. "My name is Luciana Tomstone. And who might you be - sir?"

Her tone was as cool as her gaze, though there was a hint of respect. Or perhaps it was sarcasm. He chose to answer her, however. "I am your new teacher and Head of House." He swept up to the front of the room, and rapped the desk with his knuckles. This gained no more attention but for the amusement of Luciana Tomstone, whose dark eyebrow was arched in a superior fashion.

He wasn't too pleased with his reception. "SILENCE!" he roared suddenly, his voice carrying over the class. In pure astonishment, the class finally shut up, and faced the front, where he stood, a look of grim satisfaction playing about his face. He let the dead silence ring in the dungeons for a moment, before he spoke again. His voice was soft, but it carried through the classroom, he knew, so that every student heard every syllable that sprang forth from his lips. For how many times had _he_ spent in this room, learning Potions?

"I don't know what sorry state you have let yourselves fall to, and I do not want to see it," he started. "You have been left three months without a teacher, and perhaps even longer without a proper one."

"Sir," called a Gryffindor at the back without bothering to raise his hand. "Professor Gindow was our teacher. She -"

"Did I give you permission to speak, boy?" the new teacher's voice dropped to a low, menacing tone, while he advanced up the aisle, his eyes boring into the foolish boy's, who was now sitting silent, cowering before his new Potions teacher's wrath. His eyes darted from the right to left. Little droplets of sweat could be seen forming at his hairline, which had traces of future recession. "Did I?" he repeated his question. The boy shook his head frantically. "Good. As long as we have that clear." He faced the rest of the class, and spoke. "No one is to speak without permission, no one will speak if not spoken to. What minimal time I have to given is not enough to fill your fool brains with any knowledge at all. So to waste time - especially with your year-end exams - is utterly foolish." The new teacher glared down his hooked nose at the boy. "What is your name?"

"Cristopher Mantle," the boy whispered.

"Well Mantle. Consider yourself the loser of five House Points. Speak out of turn again, and it will be fifty. And that goes well for the rest of you," he snapped, turning back to the rest of the class. He swept back up to the front of the classroom. "I am Professor Snape. I will not tolerate any time-wasters or anyone who cannot tell the difference between a cauldron and a cooking pot. They will be gone from this classroom. Is that understood?" Most of the class glanced at each other alarmingly. Only the girl at the front looked pleased.

Luciana ate her evening meal slowly, ignoring those who sat near her. She was deep in thought, though a textbook lay before her. Her mind was on Professor Snape. There was a man whom one could be challenged by. He tolerated no nonsense, and gave none. In the past week, he had already kicked out a student from the class. She wasn't at all interested in Potions, but in the boy who sat in front of her.

Her piercing scream rang out in the middle of the class last week, as she scrambled on top of a nearby stool to avoid the potion coming from her melted cauldron. The class had watched silently as Professor Snape had deftly Vanished the potion, and had bodily dragged the girl off the stool and out of the classroom. He slammed the thick door after her, and snapped at the class. Luciana had simply smiled to herself, and went on with her brewing.

Later, she had heard sobbing coming from the end of the bathrooms. Sure enough, the same girl was huddled by the window, crying her eyes out. When she saw the Slytherin girl, however, she drew herself up.

"What?" she said proudly, "have you come to laugh at me, Luciana?"

"No really," Luciana said off-handedly. "It's not really my way, to mock others." Her eyebrow twitched, and a corner of her mouth twitched.

Thinking she had an audience to cry to, the girl sniffed. "He's just so mean," she wailed. "I'm not that good, but I _do_ try!"

Luciana's mouth tightened. Self-pity and the misunderstanding of a good teacher was wasted on the Slytherin girl. For a moment, she had felt a some respect for the wreck before her, when she faced down the most loathed girl in the school with dignity even through her tears. But now....

"Were you ever good at anything?" asked Luciana sarcastically. "There are certain things you really must know. Your clumsiness was slowing the class down. We are an Advanced Potions class, and Professor Snape had every reason to throw you out on your fat, self-pitying bottom. Now if you can't deal with that, find someone who really cares to listen to your woes. I promise you, say one more word, and I will hex you until your face is no longer recognizable."

Another wail escaped the girl, as she gathered her things, and fled the bathroom, leaving Luciana behind. "What a fool," she had murmured to the empty bathroom.

Now, Luciana finished her meal, washing it down with pumpkin juice. It had been a few days since the bathroom incident, and it seemed like everyone knew about it, and thought that Luciana's levels of vindictiveness had increased, which was not true. She hadn't even been horrible to the girl, simply telling the truth. It wasn't like she had really been prepared to spring a nasty set of boils on her.

She closed the book which she hadn't been reading, and left the Great Hall. People skittered away from her, scrambling to get out of her way. Luciana watched this with an amused eye. It was as if she had a contagious disease, or was a fire-breathing dragon.

Luciana reached the Slytherin Common Room in good time, and by-passed several tables, reaching the table in the back corner which she considered hers. What school-work that was not finished lay spread open. The work that she had finished lay in a neat pile on an extra chair. Nobody dared to touch her things, or even move them if they needed room to work, and Luciana liked it that way.

She settled herself down in her chair, much like a queen on her throne. Arithmancy lay open where she had last left it, but Luciana simply moved it away from her. There would be the weekend to work on it. Instead of homework, she pulled out old school records which were kept in the archives of the library. The year on the package read a decade or so before that year.

Luciana opened the file carefully. Inside was the information on former students, in alphabetical order. She quickly thumbed through the file, and found Severus Snape, now the current Potions teacher, and Head of House for Slytherin. She read through the data on Snape, not really sure why she was doing so. There was simply no point, but it _did_ break the monotonous parade of homework.

Professor Severus Snape was like any other person. Nothing out of the ordinary was there, nor was it very informative other than the normal dregs of a student. Luciana closed the file, thinking. Snape was in the same year as James Potter, the father of legendary the Boy Who Lived (gods, it was sickening, how an infant already had titles). It was also the year of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, mass murderer and foolish victim. They all had left Hogwarts the year she had started out, making them - him - seven years or so older than she was.

Interesting.

Snape regarded the unruffled student. She was simply so... Slytherin. He was listening with not much attention to the gabbling Gryffindor who was sitting beside Luciana Tomstone. She showed no reaction to the boy's dramatic story, nor did she deny or accept anything.

McGonagall was standing in the background, looking less calm than the girl. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and the tell-tale thin line that was her mouth showed her displeasure. She had burst in upon him in his office, followed by the boy - who showed the signs of recent removals of a hex - and Luciana, who had swept in coolly.

It seemed that, according to the Seventh-Year Gryffindor, Luciana Tomstone had exited the library, saw Moore (the boy), and cursed him. There would be "loads" of witnesses (all Gryffindor, all Moore's friends), who would be delighted to tell the new Head of Slytherin what had happened. The additional fact that this boy was a Quidditch player_ and_ a Prefect did not help Luciana at all.

McGonagall wanted him to punish the Slytherin, on top of the fifty points she had taken from Slytherin for 'unprovoked dueling in the hallways', and 'blatant bullying'.

At long last, his office was silent for the first time in the past - he checked the timepiece on his desk - twenty minutes. Snape finally was able to turn to Luciana, and asked "What happened, Miss Tomstone?"

McGonagall made and angry gesture, as if she wanted to say something, but checked herself. Luciana waited until the Transfiguration teacher had subsided, then spoke. "There was one spell I used, and it was the Ricochet Charm."

It was the only thing she said, and it held more weight than the rambling of Moore. McGonagall started to say something, but stopped.

Snape took up the baton again. "Moore." His voice took on a silkily dangerous tone that those in the room immediately recognized. He was on the hunt. "You have this one last chance to explain what has happened. If you tell falsely one more time, there will be severe consequences."

McGonagall made a noise of objection, but stepped back again, a look of deep vexation on her face.

Moore, in the other case, looked panicked and shifted uncomfortably, looking from Luciana to Snape with quick jerks of his head. "I... uh," he trailed off, and muttered something about being too hurt in the hexing to remember, into his hands.

"Very well," said Snape softly. "Since you cannot remember, we should perhaps go to the Headmaster. Or... perhaps you remember now?"

"I don't know!" the boy cried out angrily, looking up. "So what if I did curse her? She deserved it, and a hundred times over, and I didn't even get her!" As soon as he shouted this, he clamped two hands over his mouth, his eyes widening in shock.

Snape nodded slowly. "I see. Professor McGonagall, if you would please tell me about the fifty points you've taken from my House...?" his eyes glittered in an amused way, as McGonagall's face turned livid.

"This will be resolved fairly," she said stiffly. "Moore, in my office _ now._" Moore moved to the door, a defeated air hanging around him like a cloak.

Before she left, McGonagall cleared her throat. "Tomstone." Luciana turned around slowly in her chair. "You have my apologies for mistaking you as the culprit. Severus," she nodded curtly at him, and closed the door after her.

Alone, Snape regarded his student, who looked as poised as the first time she came in. He wondered what she would have done, had not Moore burst out in indignation. She too, was watching him. She wasn't exactly a beauty. Her face had an almost gaunt and unhealthy look. Her hair was always tied back, and her face held no trace of cosmetics. She was neat, her clothes clean, and herself careful of her appearance. She wasn't vain, but simply orderly. That in itself gave her the maturity that held her above her fellow classmates. Snape had no idea why she had not been selected as Head Girl, or even a Prefect. The current Head Girl, Therisa Gambol was not going to succeed in anything. She had no motivation at all, nor brains for that mater.

"Is there anything you wish to say?" Snape finally asked.

"No, Professor. Only... I do thank you for your assistance."

"Very well. You may leave now."

"Yes, sir."

Luciana watched Hogwarts disappear. Her home of seven years was slowly receding into the misty landscape of Scotland. It wasn't sorrow she was feeling, nor was it joy. It was the calm acceptance she had always felt about everything.

Now, summer was here, and her NEWTS were taken. All that was left was the future. Nothing really was very appealing. Nothing seemed to call out to her. Of course, job offerings would come soon, once NEWTS were processed. Her grades would be among the top, and she wasn't worried. She would wait, and take the best offer when it came along. There was no rush or hurry.

Hogwarts was gone now. She doubted there would be another day when she would see the school again. But... perhaps she would have the chance to see a certain Potions professor again. Luciana smiled, and sat properly again. Professor Snape... She was never one to have a silly crush on a teacher - on anyone, for that matter - and she ends up falling for a man that was unattractive, temperamental, and older than her by seven years.

If anything was sillier, she didn't know. But she would put his memory away, until one day, she stumbles upon a Hogwarts memoire, and finally remembers her first crush from her school days in Scotland.

15 Years Later...

Snape watched the shoppers in Diagon come and go, as he waited for his order to be packaged in the Apothecary. Nobody noticed the Hogwarts Potions teacher. It was simply a river or people flowing in their comfortable lives. No one really cared, and no one really wanted to care.

Outside in the street, Snape joined the river, one among the hundreds in the Alley. It was nearing Christmas, and people were festive. It would only be the third Christmas after the Dark Lord had been truly defeated. For Snape, it didn't matter any way. Life went on in its persistent flow, and it would never stop for anyone, not even as for one such an infamous character as the late and former Dark Lord.

He hit her just as she was coming out of one of those little shops along the street. Both their packages went flying. Happy shoppers side-stepped them, as they tried to pick up precious bundles before the thin layer of snow got to them.

"You clumsy fool!" the witch cursed, as she snatched a pile of parchment from under a witch's shoe. She was curing Snape, not the woman. "You have eyes for a reason, so why not use them?" she made an exasperated noise, as another book was picked up from the ground. "A crippled and blinded hag could have avoided something like this!" she finally faced him, and froze.

"Good afternoon, Miss Tomstone." Snape bowed slightly. She had changed quite a bit when he had last seen her. Her face had more color than it had years ago, and it had filled out a little. Luciana's hair was cut shorter than he remembered, about to her shoulders. What had really changed was - he couldn't quite place it, but she did look older, and more mature. It had been, of course, fifteen years.

"Professor Snape."

"I believe this book is yours." He handed her another book. She was wearing a cloak that was clasped by the International Research Committee's crest carved in silver, he noted. She had always been a bright student. There were three books now tucked under her right arm, and she had a sheaf of parchment pages clutched to her chest.

"My thanks to you, Professor, as always," she said gracefully. "Also, my apologies, for causing you to drop your purchases, and for my... language." she was always the one with grace and dignity. A wonderful girl, really. Well, a woman now.

"You have my apologies also, Miss Tomstone."

"You are still teaching at Hogwarts, Professor?"

"Unfortunately. And you are where now?"

"South America, with the IRC. I've been there for fifteen years now." That would explain her tone of skin.

"Then what exactly, brings you to London?"

"I have family here, Professor. Also, it is prudent to keep up with what others have done." They were still in the streets, and snow was beginning to fall lightly again.

"Are you in a hurry, Miss Tomstone?" he was about to ask her to dinner - to compensate for her spilled papers, of course. Perhaps it was his spontaneous nature, finally pushing through.

"Certainly. There are several stores which I was tasked to visit, before they close today, and as I must be getting back tonight... that leaves me with no real choice."

"My apologies once more. Farewell." Snape bowed again, and left her, another plan forming in his head.

Luciana Tomstone sat in her office, holding the letter from Snape. It invited her to Christmas dinner (tomorrow, in Great Britain) at a small restaurant in Hogsmeade. They had met again after fifteen years several days ago, and he was inviting her to dinner.

From what she had read about him recently, he was definitely not one to invite any witch to dinner. Not that anyone would agree to go. But she was not just anyone. Once upon a time, she had wanted this. It was something like a... hobby. Something different to think about, when her homework was done. But now, here was the real thing.

A knock on her door brought Luciana from her reverie, and she called that the door was unlocked. "Luciana. _Bonjour. Comment ça va?"_

"I'm all right, Jean. How can I help you?" The French wizard smiled lop-sidedly. "We were wondering if you would like your Christmas to be spent with us," he said. His hair fell over his glasses, but he swept it back up. "You spend your _Noël_ in your rooms always." He was one among the several in the building trying to make her come out of her shell, and it wasn't working.

"Actually, I'm going back to England. I'm spending tomorrow evening with an old acquaintance." Luciana shuffled her papers, and placed them in a file, then into her desk. "But thank-you for your offer, as usual."

"Ah, you have someone, Luciana. Is a special friend, huh?" Jean's grin widened.

Luciana's look turned frosty in the damp warmth of the South America's. It had been a while since she had given someone that look. Here at the IRC, her colleagues were more competent than her schoolmates, and she rarely had reason to be displeased with them, and here, she was... not exactly happy, but she could have lived her life out in their little building, tucked away from everyone.

"There is no reason for you to know or care, Jean. I shall be leaving this afternoon. Have a good day." She effectively cut him off, retreating into her own work, in her research, and her own world. She only looked up, when the door closed, and she was left alone.

Luciana stood, and stretched. There was nothing left for her to do today, at least, and she'd spend it reading her own books, until it was time to leave. That was what she anyways did, and none of her companions - the five of them - expected to do any less. She was the only witch on that team, and as nasty as a cornered dragon, she had heard Rolf say once. He was the Charms specialist.

Jean the French wizard specialized in Transfiguration, and was also their cook. The three of them had been at the undisclosed South American base since it had first opened. Peter and James had joined them a decade ago, the set of twins their Magical Creatures experts. Their last member was an older man from another base, Nagatalanawag. He was their overseer, their boss. He entered their lives just as another left it, after the twins arrived.

Of course, the five of them bonded quickly. Luciana kept herself apart. Even after fifteen years, they didn't know the half of it. As always, people would gossip and whisper about her. She didn't really mind. It was what her life had been based on. The five of them only speculated about her, and couldn't really gossip. After all, she gave them no reason to, and they didn't really need to know about her in that much depth. She was different, and they accepted that.

Snape paused at the edge of the grounds of Hogwarts, and looked up at the castle. It was his favorite way of looking at it. From the grounds in the evening, there was an ethereal beauty to it. No screaming students, no annoying problems to solve... it was one view where he could actually enjoy it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Luciana Tomstone's voice came from behind him. "I've always like Hogwarts. The castle, not the school." she drew up next to him, standing a little ways from him.

"Good evening, Miss Tomstone."

"It is, Professor. My thanks, for inviting me to dinner." She was cloaked in black, and her face was all that was visible in the pale moonlight under her hood. They moved down to the snowy, magical village together.

"I am pleased you accepted my request. I did not think you would."

"No one has invited me to Christmas dinner before."

It was a small restaurant, but it was well decorated, and the good was good. Albus Dumbledore had mentioned it, in a suspiciously interfering manner yesterday. Snape had not, of course, mentioned the former student at all.

The student in question was speaking about her research. She was in charge of the Potions aspect of her team's research. Luciana Tomstone wore robes of a dark green color, which made her grey eyes glitter... Though,...her robes looked frayed and worn, especially about the cuffs. This was the look of a witch working at the IRC? This was the look of the witch who kept her robes freshly pressed and spotless?

"All I am telling you is confidential, of course," she said. "It won't be published officially for the wizarding world until late next year."

"I believe I have read nearly every released Potions discovery, but your name has never come up. And I would recognize your name."

She gave him a look, which was her amused look without smiling outrightly. He had never really seen her smile out of joy, but he had seen, on occasion, her lips curled in cruel satisfaction. "I suppose you would have," she concluded, after a moment of thought. "After all, you did recognize me several days ago after fifteen years."

"As did yourself."

"Given that," she set her fork down, and took up her goblet, which had remained virtually untouched. "I'm surprised that we have bumped into each other, after all these years."

"Well, everything happens for a reason. We have not the power nor the right to fathom its mystery."

"You believe in fate?" she said it in a challenging way, as if she was inviting him to a debate.

"I believe that things happen for a reason, and life moves from there."

"For a wizard who is so heavily involved with the research of his art you believe in things of spirits and superstition quite strongly."

"Indeed. And you believe that everything you do is based entirely upon you, for you have complete and utter control of your life, and things happen for no reason at all, confirming your belief that the world is utter chaos and that there is no point in it."

"More or less," she agreed shortly.

"You have been clever in diverting my attention from my original question, but I have not forgotten. Your research; your work."

Her eyes danced with amusement, but she did not crack a smile. "Although that was not my intent, I shall answer your question. My work is not submitted under my own name, rather with our group leader, who is part of the committee at the IRC. It is then published with the five of the committee. They meet up once a year to discuss and put together everything. It's quite interesting. I've only been to one of these meetings. Our leader had taken ill, and I was chosen to represent our base." Her plate had almost nothing left on it, and her hand was fiddling with her fork. Strange, for the old Luciana Tomstone could sit as if she was a statue.

They had perhaps talked for an hour and a half, about everything and anything. He hadn't done so much talking in his life at one time, and he doubted she had ever, either. She and him were alike in more ways than one.

Her line of work sounded fascinating. She not only worked with the most acclaimed institution, but contributed to the world. Snape, of course, had never been offered the chance to work with the IRC. Besides, there had been... baggage at the time, which had eventually led him to his work for Dumbledore, then his employment at Hogwarts. Life was never so kind to him.

"You know, I have been talking mostly of myself. You've barely opened a chance for interrogation," she said, amusement playing across her face again. "Tell me the truth. Why ask me to dinner? You'd taught me for several months. That was it, until several days ago, for fifteen years."

He didn't know what made him answer her, but he did, after a period of carefully choosing his words. "I still remember the day when I walked into my first class. You were there, of course, reading your book. But what caught me was not the book. It was the way you answered me."

"I was very uppity then, wasn't I? I'd even say I was an arrogant fool, and insolent."

"It was what made you different, your arrogance and confidence."

"I think that was the reason why the Headmaster gave me no badge.."

"Was that important for you, even then?"

"No," her hair swung back and forth when she shook her head. "It didn't effect my career, nor any of my decisions. I wasn't too disappointed then, either. I myself had tormented Prefects in my younger years at school."

"You were different, and you were very beautiful, compared to your classmates' dullness." She looked up sharply at him when he said that, as if searching for something showing on his face to show that he was lying, or poking fun at her. "Now, you're no longer being compared to your classmates," continued Snape, "but to the entire world. And you still surpass them."

"Do you mean that?" she asked. He had never seen her so uncomfortable before, and it startled him. He had never thought embarrassment was an emotion she was acquainted with. Had she changed that much?

"I'm not the one to color the truth, or to lie."

"Well." she took a gulp of her wine, before continuing. Her brow was furrowed, and she was more or less muttering to herself, though he heard every word. "I must say, that was a bit of a surprise. Perhaps a coincidence, I don't know. But I... maybe it was a little girl's crush. I don't know anymore."

Luciana sat at the dinner table, moving her fork about. It was a week and three days after Christmas. At the end of their meal, she could feel the slight unease she had felt during her school year, when he had been around. She had been very good at being cold and uncaring when anyone was around. Now, she was out of practice.

"Luciana? Are you all right?" It was Rolf, who had been waiting there at the table. "You've been sitting there, very preoccupied." He sat down across from her.

"I'm perfectly fine. I have a lot to think about, with our holiday coming to a close."

"Yes, well, me and the rest want to go for a stroll. Would you like to come?" Luciana shook her head. "All right. So you need anything from the village?" she shook her head again. He left, and she retreated to her quarters, where she had her book waiting for her. Maybe it was time to let go of the world, and disappear, if only for a little while. But goodness, life, hadn't given her such a hand other than the job with the IRC.

Severus Snape... she didn't even know why she liked him so much, but gods, it was like an obsession. Luciana had never, ever been called beautiful by anyone. Her own mother called her sharp and vicious. Of course, being a Gryffindor, Rose Tomstone had never gotten over the fact that her only child had been Sorted into Slytherin. They barely talked now. She would go to her parents' house once every year, usually during the Christmas season. He mother had told her to keep away on Christmas, 'so not to scare the guests'. Luciana usually left within three hours.

There was no trace of her ever being in the house - no pictures, no possessions, nothing. It was as if she had never lived in that house, and that suited her fine. No letters were ever exchanged, and no other interaction took place other than the few hours they spent as a family. It had always been like that, she reflected. Even in her childhood, her parents were very involved with the local magical folk, not paying a lot of attention to the girl. She had grown bitter, then resentful. Now, the only thing that brought her back to the memories of her childhood was the stronger bonds of blood.

But now... there was someone who enjoyed her presence. Well, other than the other five. But they had been together for ten or more years. Some sort of liking had to be done, or else there would have murder (there actually have been incidences in other long-residence IRC bases). Severus Snape's kind of liking may very well be amorous.

She knew what her feelings for him were. It was just so... childish that she really didn't know what to do. She had no experience whatsoever in these matters, and as it stood, for a long while after as well.

Their official holidays were Christmas and Easter. The other times, it was research and work. Of course, they had more freedom than other places, but it wasn't the same. Their previous supervisor had tried to keep his marriage to his wife, but it had been too much for them both. It was only one of the reasons why he left.

There was a choice of Apparating back and forth, but that was exhausting, and no one really wanted that. For a spouse to live at a base was unheard of. No one but members of the IRC could know where they were, and that was a rule that was enforced. It had been something luciana loved. Complete isolation from her home in Britain, and limited post. No Floos, and no visitors. Now, it seemed a little paranoid.

Luciana curled up in her armchair, with her mug of tea. Her book lay open on her table, across the room, quite forgotten now.

She'd never quit the IRC. It was the place where she had finally found her home, where she was accepted as she was, spiteful as she was. But would she be giving up love is she stayed there, in this isolated base? Did she need love? Questions and questions came at her, but she flung each of them aside, as if looking for the right one to contemplate.

"You must be kidding," Peter said, sitting with his feet up, in the Common Room. "Are you sure you've read it correctly?"

Nagatalanawag glared at him from beneath his grey eyebrows. "Is the sky blue, I ask you?" he snapped back. "It says here that the top heads want us to be guest speakers at various schools. Guest speakers," he muttered darkly, throwing the letter down. "As if we didn't have enough to do already."

"Nag, this sounds like fun." James read the letter. "Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Hogwarts, then other various schools. The smaller ones around jolly old Europe." He looked over his spectacles, and regarded everyone seriously. "It'll give us a break from this stupid Wind Spell. God, of all the stupid projects..." he trailed off.

"Beauxbaton... I never thought I'd see it again," Jean said, a misty-eyed expression coming over his face. "You went to Durmstrang, _non,_ Rolf?"

"Yes. My parents didn't want me in the little school down the street." he rolled his eyes. "It was not the best of times. How about you, Luciana?"

"Hogwarts." Yes, Hogwarts. She would be doing a workshop for her teachers and their students....

"Did you like it there? I heard it is incredible," Peter said eagerly.

"It was a school, Peter," she said sharply. "I received my education, and left. Then I came here. Why are we doing this?" she asked Nag.

"Th Ministry thought it would promote education," said Nag.

Luciana snorted. "That is exactly what we need. People being educated when they have no right to be. There are quite enough misfits who have educations. We don't need more."

Nag cleared his throat. "In any case, we're leaving for a week-long tour, meeting the Kenyan base. Our first stop is Durmstrang."

Rolf muttered something under his breath, which made Luciana smirk. But underneath her calm manner, she was very excited.

Snape sat at the back of the Great Hall, watching the lectures going on. Luciana sat next to him, watching it as well. "That's Nag, our supervisor," she said under her breath. Nag was an old buzzard, with grey locks hanging to his elbows in braids, and his eyebrows stuck out, curling about the brim of his grey hat. He spoke with an accent, which made him look very strange, when the whole foreign look was put together.

She herself had refused to speak before the entire school, choosing to let her colleagues to let her teammates speak. "After all, Rolf didn't lecture at his old school," she had explained to Snape. As he understood it, it was their last school, before they went home to South America.

"Would you like to go for a breath of fresh air?" Snape asked quietly, "As there seems no immediate need for either of us."

"Gladly." They rose together, and exited the Hall. No one gave them a second look. Or rather, they didn't notice Dumbledore's knowing half-smile, or Jean's grin from behind Nag.

Once they were outside, Luciana pulled out her want, creating a path through the thick snow. "There are things you must know," she began. She was concentrating on the path, and refused to look at him. "First of all, I will not quit the IRC to continue this - or any - relationship."

"Now would I ask that of you," he agreed. "However, I would like to pursue this." He gestured between them.

I would as well," she said quietly. "But I have never been involved in anything like this.

"Does that matter?" he asked just as quietly. They stopped at the edge of the lake.

"No. But I do like to get that out in the air before anything happens." She stood so proud and straight... he wanted to touch her cheek, to see if she was indeed made of ice. "I'd also like to say that I'm very much infatuated with you."

This time, he did touch her. He ran his fingers from her forehead to her cheek, finding her skin warm and soft. "Can I say anything less?" he breathed. He leaned over, and kissed her forehead, where his fingers had just been. He caressed her cheek with his other hand as his lips left her. He cupped her face in his hands, admiring the angles and sharpness that her mother hated so much.

He kissed her mouth this time, as they embraced in the cold background of Hogwarts. He eyes were still closed, he saw, but she was smiling when he moved back. "That is the first hug I've received," she said thickly, opening her eyes. She placed her hands over his, her smile fading a little. "Can this work?" she asked seriously. "Is this truly love, or is it something else?"

"I don't know what it is, Luciana. I do not know if it is appropriate, let alone right. But does it matter that much?"

"You've asked me that many times. But I think you know my answer as well as I do." she took his hands from her face, holding them for a moment before letting them go. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters, because I don't know anything."

Snape nodded slowly, his breath coming in and out in steady, even puffs. He didn't say anything else, but turned around to face the castle. "I wish things were a little different. Perhaps if one of us had experienced something even remotely close to a relationship, we would know how to breach this barrier."

"Even then. Would you wish for marriage? Different but joint lives? What do you want from this?" She kicked at the snow. "I know what I want," she muttered. Snape turned towards her, his eyebrow raised in question. "I want you."

Jean was the only one in the kitchen when Luciana entered the next day. "_Bon matin,_" he greeted. Luciana merely nodded at him, before pouring herself a cup of coffee. "So, Luciana..." he started with a mischievous smile, "How is your professor friend?"

Luciana gave him a sharp look, but then sat down calmly. "How did you find out?" she asked cooly.

"I saw you at the school. 'Ogwarts. You left with the professor, for a walk."

"Well, we have decided not to continue anything. We were not meant for each other. We would have killed each other within weeks." She sipped her coffee.

"So... you two..."

"No." A sad expression came over her face, though. "I'll miss him, but it's for the best," she said softly. "For the best."

"Luciana, do you not think you are being irrational?" the French wizard said.

She gave him her glacier look, and walked away with her cup. Jean shook his head sadly. She was the one who needed love more than anyone else.

**Author's Note: **Thank-you for reading to the end... hope there haven't been too many mistakes. If there are or if there are any points where I can improve my writing, please tell me about it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own much, and have borrowed heavily on other people's genius, namely J.K. Rowling's majestic series, may it stay on my bookshelves forever (or until they fall apart from over-use)


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